


Frozen Glass

by Mosspool13



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Resurrection, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:12:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosspool13/pseuds/Mosspool13
Summary: When it breaks, she is reading one of the books Percy had insisted that she try.





	Frozen Glass

When it breaks, she is reading one of the books Percy had insisted that she try. 

Ironically, it’s the first time she had picked up one of his favorite books. Helping Gilmore hold up the barrier and provide for the townspeople and refugees had taken up the majority of her time. Before they’d left for Marquet, Vax had whispered to her to keep an eye on Gilmore. The exhaustion had been obvious in the circles under his eyes and the slope of his shoulders, so she’d offered to carry the burden alongside him until Allura’s return. 

When Pike had finally found time to herself, she’d remembered the list Percy had given her. She’d been tentative at first to enter Percy’s study, where he’d said the books were located, feeling she was stepping into territory that was private. Despite that trepidation, she knew that Percy wouldn’t have given her the list and location without allowing her entrance into his private space.

A part of her wanted desperately to see what his study in Whitestone looked like—lived in by a younger, less traumatized Percy who had yet to feel the pain and despair of the loss of his family. 

What surprised her, was that the study was less orderly than she was expecting. Percy is meticulous, keeping record of his ammunition, his guns, his tinkering and inventions, his equipment all within his brain. He’s organized, and though often he creates explosions and sometimes gets impatient and messy when he’s inventing something important or quickly, and is often covered in soot or black powder, his workshop is more or less an organized chaos of Percy’s own invention. 

His study is nothing like his workshop. There are books everywhere, and the table and chair are the only empty spots in the room. The books are stacked on the sides, in the bookcase, on the bed and carpet; Pike is bewildered by how much has been crammed into this space. 

She glances at the list, and then up at the stacks and stacks of books and sighs. 

She finds them eventually, though it takes several hours over the course of a few days to find them all, and even then, she doesn’t have time to read them; more refugees come, and Pike spends her days healing and providing support for those who need it. 

And if she’s honest with herself, she spends a good portion of her time thinking about what happened after Vox Machina’s return from the Feywild. 

She’d been relieved they had all returned safely and without incident. Her eyes had automatically traveled to Percy, and then to the necklace he now wore against his breast. _Her_ necklace, and a thrill runs up her spine at the thought that he’d allowed her to put it around his neck. Sometimes she worries that Sarenrae disapproves. That her goddess knows the depths of emotion Pike holds for this white-haired human, and that the sometimes less kind emotions she harbors—the possessiveness, the all-encompassing _want_ —are things she should be ashamed of. Pike remunerates on these thoughts constantly, stuck between praying for forgiveness, and praying for Percy’s safety. 

She prays for the whole of Vox Machina, but when she found that she prayed the most often for Percy, she realized quickly that her prayers were becoming muddled and confusing, centered on his safe return, or his protection from evil. These were followed by thoughts of his face softening with the weight of the darkness lifting from him, and the way his smiles would become more genuine should he be freed of his burden. 

It became obvious to Pike how she felt soon after she began dreaming of those soft smiles. 

She’d hidden her feelings for so long. She had almost told Scanlan, when he had proposed to her, but she had swallowed back Percy’s name before she’d said too much. She had never wanted to hurt Scanlan, and telling him about her feelings would, even if she trusted he would never betray her by telling Percy or any of the others. His letter to her confirms that he is serious about her, and Pike was surprised, and confused, and sad. Sad that she couldn’t reciprocate. Not now. Not when her whole heart was settled on another. 

When they had returned from the Feywild, Pike had noticed something was different. Something had happened in the Feywild that had changed the dynamic between Percy and Vex. There was a new haggardness to Vex’s face, wane despite the triumphant clutch she held of Fenthras. Her eyes continually darted to Percy, a mixture of pain and disbelief. It became clear why when they told her about Percy and Grog’s lost memories of the Feywild. Pike gently held Grog’s chin between her hands, restoring his memories and thumbed Percy’s jawline as she imbued her energy into the restoration spell.

Percy’s eyes had immediately sharpened, focusing and flying straight for Vex. The relief in Vex’s eyes was obvious, though she hid it well with a smirk and a playful pinch of Percy’s side. But Pike knew Vex, and Pike had always been attuned to her friends’ emotions. 

“It’s yours.” Vex says, and Pike’s heart falters once, her chest squeezing tight with both fear and pride.

Vex’s feelings were not a secret. Pike had seen it, the way Vex had looked at Percy after the Feywild, her eyes bursting with thankfulness mixed with adoration and contentedness, like she had found something, and she wasn’t going to let it go. 

Pike wishes she were that brave. That she could confess so readily to the man she loves, so devotedly, so unconcerned with what others think because she _loves_ him. She _loves him_ , and it doesn’t matter what the others think. She will tell him, even if he can’t hear her, because she will do whatever it takes to bring him back. 

But that is not who Pike is. She is afraid to confess, afraid to let her feelings be known.

Because she knows they will not be reciprocated.

Those smiles she dreams about. The small, barely there, curl of his mouth that makes Pike simultaneously want to run and hide and bask in its softness. 

Those are not meant for her. 

They never were, even when she hoped, and pleaded, and sometimes prayed they could be, those were always meant for someone else. 

Vex was beautiful, strong, smart, brave; she was fearless, and she loved him. She was one of Pike’s best friends and she deserved all the happiness in the world. 

So, Pike gently cradled Percy’s head in her lap, a hand combing back the hair from his face, looking down into his still, too pale, too lifeless face, and gently sang a tune in Celestial—just as she had done at Percy’s side a year ago. The soft, lilting tones fled her lips as she let the tears fall unbidden. 

And she let go.


End file.
